


Pressure

by madamerioulette



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Asphyxiation, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Choking, M/M, PWP, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 04:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamerioulette/pseuds/madamerioulette
Summary: Thancred finds himself craving that slight pressure on his throat. He finds a solution.
Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Thancred Waters
Comments: 9
Kudos: 173





	Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just a lot of self indulgent schlock I had to get out of my system.

It begins with an accident. Or rather, an unexpected gesture done in the heat of the moment.

Thancred has Urianger all but bent in half on their shared cot - and it’s shared now, Thancred’s spent so much time there lately that it might as well stop being Urianger’s and just be _ theirs _\- but for all the Hyur’s bravado it’s the other who’s pulling the strings. A touch here to move Thancred just so, a few gentle commands there so he moves at Urianger’s pace, a praising compliment riding on the tailend of a moan, the fleeting touch of two fingers underneath Thancred’s chin to make sure he keeps his gaze up at Urianger and nothing else. Always, it’s Urianger pulling the strings. Today he pulls a new one.

The fingers underneath Thancred’s chin uncharacteristically linger in place as instead of sliding away, they move forward. They pet under his jaw, slackjaw as it is, and down his throat where Urianger can feel his pulse beating frantically as Thancred reaches his peak. Slowly, experimentally, those long fingers move to wrap around Thancred’s neck entirely. The pace between them slows, but doesn’t stop, and the look on Thancred’s face becomes more grounded as his hazel eyes focus down at Urianger’s pale gold ones. His hand doesn’t move, it’s just a presence, there is enough room for Thancred to pull back and away from the hand if he doesn’t like it. Urianger can feel the shuddering exhale the other lets out, watches him inhale slowly, deeply before pushing his weight into the hand around his neck. Gently, Urianger guides Thancred’s face down for an open-mouthed kiss and tightens his grip.

It’s not so much a moan as it is a whine that Urianger swallows. The pace between them picks back up again; faster, harder, desperate even as Thancred chases his pleasure. Urianger lets him, far too preoccupied with watching the expression on his face. Brows furrowed together in concentration, jaw set a little tighter, sunkissed skin turning a ruddy red across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, but his eyes never leave Urianger. The fingers around his throat don’t press deeply, but it’s enough to restrict some airflow, to make his breathes labored and wheezy, that when Thancred feels he’s reaching his peak, chases after it with wild abandon, his vision begins to blur at the edges. When Thancred comes, his vision goes dark, his whole body shakes, and only when he thinks he might actually lose his breath entirely does Urianger release his hold.

Thancred has not been able to stop thinking about that night. They haven’t had a night together since as work fills in any and all free time and whenever it is that they do find themselves time to breath, they’re exhausted. Not so much exhausted, however, that Thancred won’t entertain himself. But it’s not the same with his own hand, the angle isn’t right, his fingers are too thick and calloused, he can’t remember where exactly Urianger pressed to make him feel so delightfully light-headed. He finds himself craving that slight pressure on his throat. Thancred finds a solution.

It’s only when he’s dressing himself for the morning, wrapping his choker around his neck to clasp it shut that a thought hits him. Thancred stands there a moment, hesitant and embarrassed of himself despite the inn room being empty, as he looks at himself in the small mirror, hands behind his neck holding his choker against his neck. He moves to tie it off, loop one end through the round metal buckle, and once it’s secure Thancred pulls the excess leather just a little bit further. The choker tightens, not enough to cut off his air, but enough that there is a pressure. It’s not the same as Urianger’s hand, but he can’t very well ask him in the middle of the day - he’s had a hard enough time trying to reach Urianger’s eyes at all after that, let alone ask him to do it again. Maybe when they have a moment's reprieve he’ll bring it up. Maybe.

Thancred leaves the Crystarium with his choker on just a bit too tight, and goes about his day. It becomes a pattern; if the day promises nothing but a lot of paperwork, a bit of inhouse management, he tightens the choker. He’s careful about his schedule, he can’t very well train Ryne and pass out in the middle of a lesson because he can’t get enough air to his brain, doesn’t want to put the entire group at risk because he’s out of breath when stray sin eaters cross their path. It’s just a little something to make the more monotonous days pass with a little more excitement, and it goes unnoticed. By most.

Urianger, of course, notices. He’s not sure when Thancred decided to do this on his own accord, and he’s even more unsure if he’s trying to hide it or tease Urianger in plain sight, but he sees it. The placement of the choker is higher than normal and the skin pinches taut where it wraps around his neck. It’s not like they talked about it after that night. They’d cleaned themselves up in relative silence, though Urianger did check to make sure he’d not left any bruising. All the while Thancred didn’t quite catch his gaze again but he hadn’t shied away from his touch either. It’s the way their entire relationship has gone; it just sort of happens and they accept it without much in the way of conversation. After having known each other for so long, their mutual trust and respect for one another allows them these moments. Urianger hopes that if Thancred ever had an issue he’d speak up, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. He’s assuming that what he did the other night was alright, if the new choker placement is anything to go by, but it doesn’t hurt to have verbal confirmation.

They spend another long day out in the Empty; the Warrior of Light and Ryne are watching their strange new friend from Eden, the woman still unconscious and unresponsive. The Warrior is teaching Ryne how to play Triple Triad while they’re on watch duty, they’ve brought enough of their own card collection from the Source to spare Ryne a deck all her own and she’s picking up on the rules rather quickly. Thancred and Urianger go over their plans and data in the tent adjacent. The changes to the Empty are slow, but fruitful, and it would be a wonder if they could actually restore the entirety of it to something more than just the decrepit landscape its become in the last century. Urianger organizes his data on the table while Thancred charts a few battle plans in case Eden stirs again without their consent. He’s facing away from Urianger. The choker is resting on his neck today, the metal loop dangling tantalizingly against his skin. Urianger gets up from his spot at the table and moves around it so that he’s looking over Thancred’s shoulder as he draws out a formation. He lets out a thoughtful hum as if he’s paying any attention to what’s being done, but it’s to make sure Thancred knows he’s behind him. Urianger moves a hand up to hover over the nape of the other’s neck before speaking.

“Thancred.” He hooks one thin finger around the metal loop. “Thy choker is not as tight today.”

Thancred stops drawing but for a breadth of a moment before continuing. “Whatever do you mean?”

Urianger smiles warmly and pulls on the buckle gently. Thancred stops moving again and this time does not continue.

“Thou knoweth very well what I mean.”

Thancred lets out a shaky, wet sigh. Urianger’s pulling on the choker just enough to mimic the light pressure, but now that Urianger is so close, the feeling isn’t enough anymore. He wants his hand. They stand there a moment, unmoving, until Thancred lets his free hand come up to his choker and gives Urianger a sideways glance. He was foolish to think the Elezen wouldn’t notice.

“Is this alright?” Urianger asks, slipping into a more serious tone.

“Yes.” Thancred answers quickly, leaning into the pressure of his choker and closing his eyes. “_ Gods _, yes.”

With his answer out in the open, Urianger relaxes and steps closer to Thancred so that his lips graze the shell of his ear.

“Did thou miss the feeling of mine own hand that much that thou would presume to mimic it with such… creative devices?” He smiles, tugging on the choker just a little bit more. It’s enough to make Thancred choke on a gasp. “Does this satisfy thou?”

Thancred lets out a shaky breath. “No.”

Urianger hums thoughtfully. “It is a bit thin. It covers just enough to substitute mine own thumb and forefinger, but not the entire hand. Perhaps something bigger?” He slides a hand under Thancred’s coat and fingers the belt around his waist. “Perhaps one of these would suffice better?”

Thancred groans.

“Thancred?” A voice from outside the tent has them detaching themselves from one another in record time. “Urianger?”

The Warrior of Light peeks in under the tent flap, their body silhouetted by the bright early evening sun setting in the distance. If they notice any lingering tension in the room, they don’t make mention of it.

“It’s getting late, so I’m going to take Ryne back to the Crystarium. I’ll be back to watch our guest afterwards -”

“No need.” It’s Thancred who speaks up. He doesn’t turn to face them, only continues drawing out his battle formations from earlier with renewed vigor. “Urianger and I can handle it. You get your rest.”

“But -”

“Do not maketh us send word to the Exarch that thou aren’t getting thy rest proper.” Urianger teases, smiling over his shoulder. 

The Warrior ducks their head down and huffs. “_ Fine _. Stay safe you two.”

They wave their goodbyes before retreating, their voice carrying as they talk with Ryne. Neither Urianger or Thancred move from their spots or speak while they listen for the telltale sound of their vehicle starting up and driving off into the distance. It’s only then, when silence has encompassed them once more, that Thancred chuckles.

“Laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think? Bringing the Exarch up at a moment’s resistance.”

“Aught to ensure our night’s peace,” Urianger smiles, leaning in close to Thancred once more. He presses his lips to the back of his head and starts to unlatch the choker from the other’s neck. He feels him chuckle quietly again.

“I doubt there will be anything _ peaceful _ about it.”

Thancred allows Urianger to remove his neck decor, the air kissing the naked skin making him shiver with anticipation as a hand replaces it. He stops drawing again and discards the quill altogether as he leans into the pressure, shutting his eyes, rocking back into Urianger. His hand doesn’t squeeze quite yet, but the weight there is enough to send Thancred into a completely different state of mind, his pulse quickening under the stroking of his thumb.

“Urianger,” Thancred says his name like a prayer. “_ Please _.”

Urianger smiles. “Thee needeth only ask, dearest Thancred.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ❤
> 
> You can find me on twitter @ thelittlemiss


End file.
